


nobody gets me but you

by keishn



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Belligerent Sexual Tension, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Hang the DJ Inspired Universe, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-08 00:50:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14683038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keishn/pseuds/keishn
Summary: “Alright then,” Jean says,  “let’s just see how long we have to put up with each other.”They both hold the white circular devices in their palms and tap the reveal button on the screens at the same time.Eren blinks at the screen, then looks up at Jean.  “Twelve hours,” he says.The System is designed to match everyone with The One by running people through a series of trial relationships and using the information to determine the next pairing.  Jean and Eren are each other's first pairs in The System, their predetermined relationship lasting just twelve hours. They run into a pretty major complication; as they navigate their way through The System, trying to find their ultimate pair, they find they can't stop thinking of one another.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [nobody gets me but you - spoon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EdMI5w_RVLI)

Eren Jaeger glances down at the object in his hands. It’s smooth, white, circular, and the screen on the front of it is black. He taps it on.  According to the clock on its screen, his date is late.

“Is he here yet?”

“Sorry,” the device tells him, “I can’t disclose that information.”

Eren hums and puts the device face down on the table.

A new relationship. He’s excited by the thought of his first pair, but he’s also nervous. He hopes that the guy isn’t ugly— that’d put a real damper on things.  The System supposedly chose this person for him, but it also takes the System awhile to learn who you should be with. This is only his first, not his ultimate, pair. Most people have multiple relationships— all determined by an algorithm that learns your behaviors until it finds your perfect match. Eren can’t imagine what it might have been like in the past. _Dating_. It required asking someone out and then, if things didn’t work out, a messy breakup.  Stressful.

He sits in booth twelve at the small bar-and-kitchen, where he was told they were supposed to meet, and sips on the iced water that was placed in front of him without his realizing, while his leg underneath the table shakes, heel bouncing.   His hair is pulled back into a low bun, tight at the nape of his neck. He shouldn’t have pulled it back so tight, he thinks, he’ll end up with a headache.

Glancing over his shoulder, his eyes land on one of the security guards in the restaurant and he wonders what a restaurant needs security guards for.  He feels like he’s being watched, which is probably just paranoia, but Eren isn’t a generally paranoid person.

He looks back down at The System’s device and reassures himself that there’s no reason guards at a restaurant would  be suspicious of him. Maybe it’s always like this. Eren has only just started looking for The One, he doesn’t know what it’s like in here.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah?”  Eren looks at the voice. The man standing in front of him is about his age, if a bit taller, with a shaggy dirty-blonde undercut.  Dark wash jeans cling to his legs, but his torso is mostly indiscernible under a thick, beige leather jacket. Eren narrows his eyes, frowns slightly.  

“Are you Eren Jaeger?”

“Yeah,” Eren says. He attempts a loose and friendly grin, but his nerves are still on edge and it probably shows because the slim man frowns at him. “You’re Jean, then?”

“I— yeah.” Jean furrows his brow slightly as he slides into the booth across the circular table. “Is there a problem? You kind of have this distressed look in your eye… Unless you just look like that all the time?”

“Well—” Eren lets the word end and makes a smacking noise with his lips before saying, “I wasn’t expecting your face to be so—” He cuts off his sentence and gestures with his hand, face twisting into a grimace.

Honestly, Eren isn’t even sure why he does it. It just feels natural to pick a fight. The System doesn’t know anything about him, yet, so this guy probably sucks anyway, despite the fact that there really isn’t much wrong with his face. Actually Eren kind of digs the shaggy hairdo and the scruffy face. Not that Eren has room to judge the latter. At least Jean’s hot.

Jean’s eyes widen slightly, his jaw drops a bit. Something about it makes Eren’s gut twist in anticipation. Eren argues with everyone, always, full stop. And insulting Jean up-front is probably better than the guy finding out the hard way. Besides, they could be stuck with each other for a year, maybe even _longer_ , God Forbid. The System has its own algorithms that Eren isn’t well-versed enough in the world of app dev to understand.

Actually, Eren doesn’t understand anything about how most of technology works, except that it all has something to do with the elusive electrons.

“Alright then,” Jean says,  “let’s just see how long we have to put up with each other.”  

They both hold the white circular devices in their palms and tap the reveal button on the screens at the same time.

Eren blinks at the screen, then looks up at Jean.  “Twelve hours,” he says.

“Huh,” Jean says, still looking at his own device. “At least I don’t have to deal with such an unpleasant asshole for longer than that.”

Eren ignores the fact that being insulted makes his heart beat so damn fast. Maybe he’s met someone as fickle-tempered as himself. He furrows his brow and asks,  “What the fuck did you just call me?”

“Oh, just an unpleasant asshole. You know? Like some guy who just insults someone he doesn't even know.”

“At least I didn’t do it behind your back,” Eren counters before taking a sip of his water.

Jean opens his mouth to say something, and Eren can only imagine what it might have been because at that moment, their waiter decides to show up, clearing his throat and glancing between them.

“Please get me a drink,” Jean says.

“What—”

“The strongest thing you’ve got. On the rocks.”

The waiter nods and then glances at Eren. Eren only meets his eye for a split second before turning his attention back to Jean. Jean meets his glare. Well, Eren thinks, at least the next twelve hours of his life won’t be  _boring_.

“What’s your problem now?” Eren asks,  spitting the words.

“My problem is that my first relationship is with some dude like you, which _I already said_ ,” Jean speaks to him like it’s painful.

“What’s wrong with _some dude like me_?” Eren asks, daring the other male to criticize him.

Jean scoffs. “If I ever had to pick someone for myself, it certainly wouldn’t be you with your—” Jean pauses and stutters for a second, and Eren can tell he’s trying hard to think of an insult, but all he comes up with is “—shitty personality.”

Eren’s fingers trail around the base of his glass of water, swirling the droplets of condensation in some abstract pattern.  He grins. “Your hard-to-get act is kind of hot, not gonna lie.”

He revels in Jean’s face turning red, at his spluttering attempts at answering. Finally, he says, “The first thing you did was insult me, but I’m playing hard to get _?”_

Eren shrugs. “I change with the wind. All I’m saying is, I bet you’re already into me.”

“No,” Jean replies, “You are annoying.”

The waiter returns with a glass that’s filled with a small amount of alcohol and one large ice cube and places it in front of Jean.

“We’ll be out with your meals shortly.”

“But we didn’t order,” Eren says.

“The System decides for you.” Then he disappears through a set of swinging doors.

Jean and Eren sit in silence, avoiding looking at each other in the eye. Jean downs his alcohol and Eren sips at his water. When the man finally reappears through the swinging doors, he comes with two plates. One has pasta and meatballs and the other has scallops and vegetables. He places the latter in front of Eren, then disappears again.

Jean scowls down at his plate as Eren tries not to mirror the image of disappointment; he swears the security guard across the room from him is watching his reactions to the food on the table, scrutinizing him.  He sighs and then takes the smallest amount of the meal possible with his fork.

Eren hates scallops.

*

The town car pulls away from the curb after Jean and Eren exit it. In front of them is the place that they have to live. If a single night in a bed can be considered living somewhere. It feels more like vacationing at a hotel.

Clouds in front of the moon distort it into a shimmery blur. In the distance, the shadow of the large, grey stone wall that encloses the community looms over them. When Eren thinks about, he doesn’t really remember what was on the other side of them when he came here to find The One.  Actually, Eren doesn’t remember much.

“Thank God we only have to stay here for one night,” Jean says, when they step over the threshold.

“What’s your problem? It’s actually pretty nice. 

“It’s not the place I’m complaining about.”

Eren shrugs at Jean’s comment, knowing full well Jean is complaining about him, but electing to ignore that fact. Annoying Jean has proven to be a great source of entertainment. Little effort with high payoff.

“I mean if you hate art deco you can just say so. It won’t insult me.”

“This isn’t art deco,” Jean says. “Like. Not even close.”

“The fact that you know that is an embarrassment to this relationship.”

“Of twelve hours,” Jean points out.

Eren shrugs. “Details.”

The cabin they’ve been assigned for the duration of their relationship— read: one night— is filled with furniture and decorations in different shades of greens and blues. The small living room consists of one green sofa and a round blue coffee table. They have to walk through that and the small kitchen to get to the bedroom. It’s all very modern, with a lot of appliances that would be nice if they were staying past morning.

If Eren could handle caffeine he supposes he’d be able to at least enjoy the espresso machine. Jean probably drinks coffee, he seems like the type of person who stands in line for a half hour at a coffee shop and then picks the most complicated drink on the menu, backing the line up further.

Eren sits on the opposite edge of the bed from Jean. It’s a circular mattress with a plush blue comforter tucked in around the outer edge. All the pillows are rectangular or square, the same shades of green and blue as the rest of the decorations of the cabin.

“So,” Eren starts. 

Jean’s eyes slide over to him, wary.

Eren wants to roll his eyes and stick his tongue out, but even he has the presence of mind to know how childish that would seem.  “So,” he starts again, “we’re here tonight. For one night. And—”

“Are you trying to ask me to sleep with you?” Jean asks, eyebrows curving at an impressive angle.

“Only if it’s working,” Eren replies.

Jean proceeds to let out a very audible exhale that Eren assumes means he’s annoyed. Or he wants Eren to think he is.

Eren bats his eyelashes at him.

“Fine,” Jean says.

Eren gapes for a moment because, truly, he did not expect that to work for half a second. Maybe he hoped for a millisecond. That’s it though. When he gets his bearings, he blinks and asks, “Really?”

Jean crosses his arms over his chest and his lips twist into a grimace when he says, “If you drag this conversation out for a second longer I’ll change my mind.”

Eren smirks and twists over to clamber on all fours to the other edge of the bed where Jean sits, perched like some sort of stuck-up bird. Jean shifts hesitantly, like he doesn’t trust Eren, to which Eren says, “Calm down, I’m not going to do anything weird— unless you want me to.”

Jean rolls his eyes, but he lets Eren kiss him. It’s a rushed and messy kiss. Eren doesn’t remember the last time he kissed someone, now that he thinks of it. He grips Jean’s shirt in his fist and pulls him down onto the bed until they’re laying on top of one another, knees hitting together and both of them swearing in the process.

The weight of Jean on top of him is enough to have Eren half-hard already, heart racing with anticipation. He flips them over and Jean’s eyes light up with surprise as he does.  He wonders absently if Jean will have try to fight him for control as he dives back in to kiss him again and slowly drags his hips, grinding into Jean and moaning softly into his mouth, even as his hands pin Jean’s shoulders to the bed.

Their shirts come off, and the feeling of Jean’s skin against his is so good that Eren can’t stop his hands from roaming Jean’s chest, his back, his sides. He fumbles with the pants button for a moment until Jean makes a nose that might be making fun of Eren and pushes Eren’s hands out of the way to undo it himself.  Eren can’t wait to touch him, to taste him, to fuck him.

Jean kicks his pants off, and Eren hooks the fingers of one hand into the band of his boxer-briefs, pulling Jean closer slightly before sliding those off him too. He’s hard, and he lets out a beautiful sound when Eren wraps his hand around him.

Eren brings his other hand to Jean’s face, fingers tracing his lips to get Jean to open his mouth.

“You’re so pretty, baby,” he tells Jean, as the other wets Eren’s fingers.

He half expects that to be the straw and for Jean to stand up and put his clothes back on, but instead, he moans around Eren’s fingers and he fucks into Eren’s hand. Eren smirks at him, pulling his hand away from Jean’s mouth, reaching around so that he can finger him 

“And so eager,” he says, when Jean gasps. “Is that it? You’re eager for me to fuck you.”

“Fuck _off_ ,” Jean says through his panting, failing to hold back a moan even as he grinds his teeth together. 

“Oh, you don’t mean that,” Eren says, adding another finger. When he finds Jean’s prostate he presses into it with the pads of his fingers and Jean arches back, voice nearly crying out. Eren thinks he could listen to Jean all night.

All night, every night. 

Eren pushes Jean slightly so he’s on top of him now, crashing their mouths together in a wet, messy kiss that results in teeth clanging together before they readjust. He pulls at Jean’s hair with his left hand, working a third finger inside of him. 

“God,” Jean says, obviously attempting to hide how fucked out his voice really is with impatience, “just fuck me already.”

Eren’s cock twitches in his jeans, painfully ignored.

“Of course, baby. Anything for you,” he says, mouthing down Jean’s neck, sucking lightly at the tender skin near his jugular before pulling away completely.

Jean sucks in a breath at the loss of Eren’s fingers inside him. 

Eren stands up, kicks off his jeans, and opens the drawers in the nightstands until he finds lube. Jean watches him, Eren feels his eyes on him the whole time, until he comes back to the bed, pulls his underwear off, and slicks himself up, tossing the capped bottle back towards the pillows when he’s finished with it.

Repositioning himself above Jean, he brushes a piece of hair out of the other’s face then pushes Jean’s legs, arranging them so he can enter Jean more easily. Slowly, he pushes inside of Jean, pausing whenever Jean tenses or gasps for breath, until he’s all the way inside of Jean, his hips against the back of Jean’s thighs. Finally he lets himself exhale; a grunt from deep in his chest escapes with his breath. 

“Move,” Jean says, voice a whisper.

Eren thrusts into Jean, movement picking up speed until he’s grunting while Jean moans and writhes underneath of him, not a single breath of silence between them. Eren’s not going to last long. Not with Jean sounding like that and the sound of their skin slapping together over and over. He grits his teeth, breathing heavily through his nose. For a moment he foolishly believes he can outlast Jean, but then unexpectedly, in a rather athletic maneuver, Jean flips them. 

With Jean above him now, straddling his hips and riding Eren while tugging at his own cock, and Eren thrusting upwards to meet him halfway, Eren can feel his climax building. Then Jean finds the angle that turns his moans into an insistent throaty sound that’s something close to a sob and it’s over.  Eren gives two last thrusts before he comes inside Jean, hard. 

It isn’t until after he’s pulled out that the look on Jean’s face, one that says _Really, Jaeger?_ , that Eren breathes out. He says, “Come here,” pulling Jean by his hand and nudging at the back of his thigh.

Jean grabs at pillows behind Eren’s head, walking forward on his knees, still above Eren until Eren reaches above himself to pull Jean’s hips down. His own come is still dripping out of Jean. He likes the taste of it, almost as much as he likes the taste of Jean.  He sucks lightly at Jean’s rim, then lets his tongue roam around it before it goes deeper.

Jean’s thighs muffle the sound of him moaning above Eren as he fucks him with his tongue. Jean holds himself up slightly with one hand, stroking his cock with the other, until Eren’s fingers dig into his hips guiding him downward, wanting Jean to use his face while he gets off.

Jean’s hips roll down into his face, letting Eren’s tongue even deeper into him. Eren thinks if he dies like this, suffocating against Jean’s ass, it would be worth it.

After a few minutes, Jean pulls off Eren, one leg swinging over his head as Jean falls onto the bed next to him, chest painted up to his chin in come.  They both lay there, panting for a minute, until Jean stands up, and walks out of the room, still fully nude, the sound of the showering turning on following the closing of the bathroom door.

*

The door beeps behind them as it locks, signaling the vacant status of the cabin.

“So,” Eren says, feeling rather awkward. He desperately wants to see Jean again— how could he not after last night?— but The System has decided that that’s it for them. “I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah,” Jean says, shoving his hands into pockets. “See you around.”

There’s a heavy feeling in his chest. Eren almost wants to stop Jean from getting into the car, or pull him back in for one last kiss, but the driver is watching him closely, so he keeps his distance. He watches as the black town car pulls away from the grass and drives off.  

The car that’s picking up Eren arrives moments later, identical to the one that took Jean.  Identical to the one they were in last night. As he gets into the car and closes the door, forehead resting against the backseat window, Eren thinks an eternity has happened in the last twelve hours.  

Fifteen minutes later, he finds himself sitting on a bench in a park, surrounded by trees, the gray of the enclosing walls in the distance. Sighing to himself, he taps on the white device’s screen. 

“Is the first one always that short?” he asks.

“The System learns from every relationship you have, regardless of length.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Eren says, “but I just meant, why not even a little longer?”

“The System decides that for you.”

Eren knows The System decides that, but the response makes him want to chuck the device in his hand at a large tree trunk and not have to look at it again.  He fantasizes about doing just that for a moment, until the device dings and draws his attention back to it.

“Your next pair has been found!”

“Already?” Eren asks. “Are you sure? It hasn’t even been a whole hour.”

“The System is sure.”

He sighs, annoyed, but says, “Fine.”

*

The same restaurant where he met Jean last night is completely unchanged. He notices the security guards watching him as soon as he steps through the automatic front doors of the place.

He finds the man he’s looking for sitting at the same booth as last night, too. Eren feels almost sick to his stomach but forces himself to grin at the man and introduce himself, holding his hand out for the other man to shake.

“Eren Jaeger, pleased to meet you.”

The man watches his hand, as if it might explode, or as if Eren is trying to trick him. He’s older than Eren, it shows on his face and in the way he holds himself. He has deep-set slate eyes and a severe haircut. Even sitting down, Eren can tell the other man is shorter than himself.  Eren absently wonders if Jean has got another pairing already too.

“Levi,” the man says, face impassive.

Eren drops his hand, forcing back a sigh of resignation,  and slides into the booth across Levi.

“You’re late,” Levi says.

“Oh uh— sorry about that. It was kind of last minute, I only just found out about this thirty minutes ago. I got here as quickly as I could.”

Levi doesn’t say anything, just delicately picks up the glass of wine in front of him and takes a small sip from it, not bothering to look at Eren.

“So, should we check, uh—” Eren points at his device, “— how long this is?”

Levi says, “Sure, fine.” And taps his screen on.

They both press the button to reveal the duration of their relationship.  Eren feels his heart sink into his stomach.

“Oh,” he says.

 _8 months_ , appears on the screen in bright white text.

Their waiter appears, the same waiter that he had last night when he was here with Jean, and Eren gives him a small smile of recognition, but the waiter just stares blankly back at him. The weight of the gazes of the security guards posted around the room feels heavy on him.

“So have you been on a lot of these then?” Eren asks, after the waiter sets a glass of wine in front of him as well.  He didn’t order it, but he doesn’t think that they care very much here. The System decides for him. Apparently not solely in matters of who he fucks, but in what he gets to eat as well. He just hopes he doesn’t get scallops tonight.

Levi shrugs. “This is my fifth.”

“Your fifth? Really? Do you think you’ll find your perfect match soon?”

Levi couldn’t look more disinterested in this conversation if he actually tried, but Eren doesn’t know what else to talk about.

“What do you do for fun?” Eren tries.

Levi eyes Eren like he might actually try to murder him in his sleep.

“I like to spend time at the park, around nature and stuff, you know?” Eren speaks, despite the hostility from his new pair.

Their food comes out— more quickly than last night, Eren thinks— and Eren doesn’t attempt to make conversation with Levi again for the rest of the evening.

Eventually the meal is over and they’re at the cabin they’ve been assigned. This one is much closer to the gray stone wall that keeps them all inside until they’ve found their ultimate pair. He wonders what happens to the people who do meet their true match, who make it out and get to go to the other side of the wall.  He knows he hasn’t always been in here, but trying to think about his life before makes his headache more than anything else, so he just doesn’t.

Eren learns within the first ten minutes that Levi is very particular. He arranges the pillows, wipes the dust from the night stand and delegates cleaning the bathroom to Eren.

“I don’t even want to know how gross it could be in there.”

“It looks clean,” Eren tells him.  

Apparently that’s the wrong thing to say because Levi scrunches up his nose.  “I don’t care how it _looks_ , go clean it.”

“Kind of a neat freak, huh?” Eren asks. It’s meant to be both challenging and teasing. He thinks that Jean would take the bait, would argue back against him. The thought makes Eren’s blood heat up.

But then Levi says coolly, “Just go, _please._ ”  

And Eren does as he’s told.

Being told to clean the bathroom is easily the biggest turn-off of Eren’s life. Levi reads some book on the bed, Eren can see him from the bathroom and he tries not to glare at the man, already despising him.  

 _8 months._  And just a few hours ago, Eren had thought that twelve hours had been an eternity, albeit for a better reason.    He avoids the bedroom for as long as possible after finishing cleaning the bathroom— to _His Majesty’s_ content, Eren thinks bitterly, almost wishing Levi could hear his thoughts— watching TV in the sitting room until he’s sure Levi is asleep.

*

Couples mill about, filling every corner of the garden. So many couples that Eren can’t count them all, but he estimates at least a hundred. There are trees blossoming, many greens ones but a few with white or pink flowers are sprinkled throughout.  There are standing tables set out among the grass with vases that house bouquets of pink and white flowers as centerpieces.

Levi excuses himself, without saying where he’s going, as the couple in front of them talk about how they found each other through The System, and how The System works.

“We had periods of time that we doubted the accuracy of The System,” a woman with short, blonde hair tells them, “that we worried that it would never be able to find The One.  The day that my device lit up and told me it had found my ultimate pair, I thought that there was no way it would be right. But from the moment we sat across from each other I knew this was it for me. Of course I knew, The System told me, but I _felt_ it too. We both know better than anyone how tiring the process can be, but The System will find The One for you, too.”

Eren hopes they’re right. He’s tired of Levi already, has been for four months now. Since the night they met.

Levi never lets Eren top when they fuck, claims it’s _unsanitary_ to bottom. Eren doesn’t even dislike bottoming, he just wishes he didn’t have to do it every goddamn time.

Compulsively checking his timer— reminding himself that this isn’t _forever_ — has become his main source of sanity and comfort.  It’s what he does now. Seeing _4 months_ is better than the full time he supposes, but the closer he gets to his date of freedom the more antsy he’s been getting.

Eren turns to head towards the buffet, deciding needs more food (and more alcohol) when he walks straight into someone and hears, “Learn how to walk, idiot.”

Eren blinks, head whipping toward the voice so fast he nearly gets whiplash. “Jean?”

Jean smirks at him but shakes his head, “Of course you’re the one who literally runs into me. No one else is so uncoordinated.”

“Uncoordinated? I thought we coordinated pretty well.”

Jean rolls his eyes. He motions to the person standing next to him, who Eren has failed to notice until just now. “Eren this is Marco, my pair. Marco, this Eren, a fucking idiot.”

Marco grins at Eren, easily the kindest most unguarded smile that Eren has ever seen. A spray of freckles decorates each of his cheeks. He’s tall, but part of Eren feels like he’s looking at a kid. There’s no way, Eren thinks spitefully, that this guy fucks Jean as well as Eren did.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Eren says, in a tone that he hopes comes off at friendly.

Jean glares at him in a way that says it doesn’t.

“We were each other’s first,” Eren says to Marco.

Marco glances at Jean and then back at Eren and says, tone light and joking, “Well, then you’ll know how awful he is about cleaning up after himself.”

Actually Eren wouldn’t.

“It was twelve hours,” Jean says to Marco. “It was nothing.”

 _Nothing except the best sex of your life,_ Eren thinks bitterly, wishing he could say that out loud. He would if it were just the two of them, but Marco is apparently a fucking angel, and he probably doesn't pick half the fights Eren does, so Eren holds his tongue.

“Are you paired with someone you like now?” Marco asks.

“Oh yeah,” Eren says, “he’s great. Honestly, I think The System is close to picking my match.”

He doesn’t want to give Jean the satisfaction of being paired with someone that he likes while Eren is miserable. Even so, he wonders how long Jean and Marco are supposed to be together. If it’s longer than four months.

“Oh, that’s great,” Marco says, sounding genuinely happy for Eren. Eren’s blood boils. “I hope it all goes well for you.”

“Thanks,” Eren says.

“Let’s go,” Jean says, tugging at Marco’s arm.

Eren tries and fails not to watch them walk away together, Marco lacing his fingers into Jean’s and smiling over at him.  He thinks he might be sick.

“Who was that?”

Eren whirls around at the voice behind him. Levi doesn’t even blink as Eren stands there stuttering for a moment before he manages to get out, “Just an old pair.”

“Hm.” Is all Levi says.

*

Levi doesn’t say anything to him as they stand outside their cabin, or not theirs anymore now that it’s locked and marked as vacant. Eren didn’t expect Levi to say anything, really. But he didn’t exactly expect the treatment from him to be this cold. The last eight months weren’t perfect, or even _good_ , for either of them, the least the short asshole could do is pretend to give half a fuck and say goodbye.

He doesn’t even glance at Eren when he gets into the black town car that arrives to pick him up.

The black town car that Eren takes drops him off at the park, again.  On the way there Eren only feels relieved. No longer will he countdown the days until his relationship is over.  If the months were bad, when the clock switched over to hours from days was almost worse. The torture of almost being done with Levi, but not entirely just yet, was enough to have him pacing around the small cabin until Levi told him to knock it off.

In any other situation, Eren wonders if he would have resented Levi as much. Certainly knowing he had to spend eight months in a relationship with the guy from their first meeting did not help their opinion of each other.

The park is always empty when he’s here. Desolate except for him and a few birds. It’s not even a park, really, it’s more just an expanse of land and trees with a few benches spread far away from one another.  For privacy, he supposes, though there’s no privacy like being alone.

It’s cloudy, and rain droplets fall from the sky. Not really enough to call it raining, but enough that Eren feels one on the top of his head every minute or so.   It’s a late summer afternoon, so humid that Eren wills the sky to just _actually rain_ already; he feels like he’s practically swimming through the air.

It takes a few minutes, and changing his position so he lying sideways on the bench, legs through the armrest at the end of it because his growth wasn’t stunted at twelve like Levi’s.  He rips a handful of grass from the ground and wonders whether Jean is still with Marco. He wishes he’d asked how long they had four months ago.

Not that it would make a difference to what The System decides to do with him now.

“Your next pair has been found!”

 _Right on cue_ , Eren thinks bitterly as he taps the screen of the device.  He supposes he should get up from his spot in the park if he’s going to meet Reiner Braun on time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to karinne ([armyofskanks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/armyofskanks)) not only for reading this chapter over, but also for a little over a month ago asking me if i had seen this episode and telling me it would make a great AU and then when i watched it— it had to be erejean. 
> 
> that said, if you don't want to spoil the fic for yourself i'd suggest holding off on watching the episode.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren Jaeger wasn’t nice. Eren, who Jean spent twelve hours with— seven, if you don’t count the five hours he spent dead asleep on that circular bed he so vividly remembers— and has seen on exactly one other occasion since for less than a thirty minutes, _and_ who’s been on Jean’s mind at least twice a day for one year, eleven months, and twenty-one days.

Jean’s been counting down.

He doesn’t know when he started counting down, but now his timer is down to _days_ — single digits— and he realizes he’s been counting down and isn’t sure when it started. Maybe it started one year, eleven months, and twenty-one days ago when the timer blinked on with _2 years_. Or maybe it started eleven months and twenty-one days ago when the timer switched from years to months. Or maybe it started twenty-one days ago when the timer switched from months to days.

Maybe it doesn’t matter when it started— except _it does_ because he _never meant to start_.

Jean, sitting on the couch in the center of the sitting room of the cabin, turns his neck and shoulders to scan for his pair. Marco sits at the table alone, a mug of coffee between two hands— so hot it’s steaming and fogging up a pair of round, black-rimmed glasses— as he reads a literary magazine that’s been in the cabin since they got here. Marco has read that exact volume of the literary magazine twenty-three times that Jean knows of.  Always at that table, always with those glasses on, always with a cup of coffee.

Their routines are so in sync at this point that maybe Marco knows better than Jean does when he started counting down.  

Jean thinks now about the first time they met, one year, eleven months, and twenty-one days ago, just hours after he had left the cabin he shared for one night with Eren and not looked back. Well, Jean _did_ look back, but it was only after he was in the town car, behind the tinted windows, even with the eyes of the driver studying him in the rearview mirror. The last thing he wanted was someone like Eren Jaeger to think was that Jean had looked back at him.

He wonders if the looking back has anything to do with the _2 years_. It seems connected; it all must be connected, but Jean can’t figure out how.

That’s the thing about The System: It’s inescapable inside the walls.

Jean doesn’t remember why he agreed to come here in the first place, only that he’s here to meet his ultimate pair, his _true match_ , his destiny, or some other poorly written romance novel shit that Jean isn’t even sure exists. He doesn’t remember whether he ever thought so. But then, why the hell is he here? Why the hell can’t he remember?

At least when that day comes, the day that he’s matched with his ultimate pair, with The One,  he won’t have to ever countdown again.

He hopes— he hopes against reason— that The System is trustworthy. That he can have faith.

He glances behind himself once again, eyes landing on Marco. He almost feels guilty for counting down the days until they’re separated because Marco is a nice guy. Like genuinely _nice_. Perhaps that’s the problem, though.

Eren Jaeger wasn’t nice. Eren, who Jean spent twelve hours with— seven, if you don’t count the five hours he spent dead asleep on that circular bed he so vividly remembers— and has seen on exactly one other occasion since for less than a thirty minutes, _and_ who’s been on Jean’s mind at least twice a day for one year, eleven months, and twenty-one days.

Admittedly, at least one of those two times per day is spent fantasizing or remembering Eren in especially lewd ways, an embarrassing fact that Marco found out about seven months and twelve days ago when Jean accidentally moaned Eren’s name during sex.  Jean wasn’t even able to make eye contact with Marco for a full two days after the incident.

When he finally did, Marco had laughed as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“The ‘fucking idiot’?” he asked, laughter in his eyes, bright smile so wide that his freckled nose scrunched up and his freckled cheeks displayed their dimples.

Jean really does like Marco; that’s the thing. They hit it off immediately when they sat down at the booth of the diner— a much more casual place than where Jean had met Eren— on that first night. There was laughing, and light discussion, and absolutely _no arguing_ at all.  Sure, Jean had been surprised when _2 years_ displayed on their timers, but it wasn’t necessarily a disappointment.

But Marco isn’t Jean’s ultimate pair and maybe...

Maybe when The System determines The One, Jean won’t feel like he simply has to accept it. Or maybe The System might be complete bullshit. Jean isn’t entirely sure when he started thinking that either. When he started thinking that it’s all for nothing when he started counting down, when he started _wondering_.  

That’s the other thing he’s been doing a lot of recently: wondering. Wondering about Eren. Whether he’s with that pair that Jean and Marco ran into after Eren at the party one year, eight months ago. Or if he’s with someone else. Wondering if he’s thinking about Jean while Jean is thinking about him—

But he doesn’t hope, because hope in that situation would make him pathetic. And Jean isn’t lovesick. He’s not stupid for someone he met once and fucked once and has only seen _once_ since.

He’s not.

He swears.

Through a window inside the house where that party was, all those months ago, Jean and Marco saw a short man approach Eren after they left.  The same short man had been inside moments before, grumbling at Jean and Marco something about this generation of kids not having any manners.  When the man approached Eren, neither of them seemed pleased to see each other. It made something swell in Jean’s chest, then. Like an allergic reaction, probably.

Or some weird mix of jealousy and hope.

“Eren and Mr. Short and Grumpy?” Marco asked, hiding his giggles behind his hand.

Jean shrugged like it didn’t bother him. But if it really didn’t bother him he would have laughed, too, according to Marco.

Jean isn’t a very convincing liar, apparently.

The wondering isn’t healthy, according to Marco. He told Jean once that “What if” scenarios were meaningless and would simply hinder his happiness.  

At the time, Jean compared him to the device constantly insisting that The System knew best. If The System really did know best, why was Jean constantly questioning its choices?  Why give him Eren for one single night, and then Marco for two years?

Jean now realizes that Marco, while nice— and probably everything Jean will never deserve, not really— isn’t someone Jean feels any type of romantic or sexual pull towards. He enjoys their conversations, their easy joking, their similar taste in movies and books and food, but it all just seems… lackluster.

In another life, he and Marco could have been close friends, maybe.

Jean doesn’t really remember any of his friends from before he joined The System. He knows that he has them, but he can’t remember who they are or anything about them. No names, no faces, no voices— nothing.  He’s frustrated, so frustrated at his inability to remember. The void that The System has built around them doesn’t make any sense. How can it The One for him, if he can’t even remember who he was before? Isn’t that stuff important?

Marco flips a page in the literary magazine, the page rustling loudly in the comfortable, familiar silence of the cabin. _9 days_ , he thinks, and it doesn’t seem real that after all this time it’s suddenly going to be over just like that.

“Jean?” Marco asks, looking up. “Is everything okay?”

“Ah, yeah,” Jean says, realizing he’s been studying the other with a narrowed gaze for a likely uncomfortable amount of time. “Everything’s fine.”

*

When the door locks behind him, the timer on the padlock reaching 00:00 and buzzing once, Jean looks to Marco.

Marco looks back at him, the shadow of a smile on his face.“Guess that’s it.”

“Guess so,” Jean says.

They hug, very briefly and very platonically— a way that makes Jean wonder whether Marco hasn’t been counting down all this time too— and then a town car pulls up to the curb, and Marco steps towards the door of it.

“I’ll see you around, Jean,” he says with a grin, before getting in the car.

He pulls the door closed behind him as he gets in.

Jean’s mid-sentence, trailing off at “Yeah, see you…” when he realizes Marco doesn’t care. Maybe he does _care_ , but he’s clearly ready to move on to something better than this. Better than algorithm set-up lovers turned friends.

Another town car doesn’t come immediately, and after a few minutes Jean gets tired of waiting, so he sits down in the grass, feet hitting the pavement of the road as he stretches his legs out in front of him.  

Jean wouldn’t mind waiting here for too long, except that it’s gray and wet. Jean wonders if it rains whenever someone’s pairing ends. It’s raining heavily now, though, much worse than when his night with Eren was up.

The sounds of gunshots echo in the distance, as they have almost every evening since he and Marco arrived at the cabin. When he asked his device what was going on that first night, it had told him not to worry, it was simply a training field just a mile away for the security guards within the walls.

Jean asked the device why they needed guns, but the device didn’t answer, almost like it was pretending not to hear him.

He marks that as the day that he started wondering what exactly The System is doing with them, what its goal is, whether it really can determine what his and countless others’ ultimate pair should be. He can’t exactly ask anyone that, though. The device wouldn’t be programmed to give him honest answers, and he doubts anyone else knows much more than he does; if they do, they aren’t about to tell him.

Just as he thinks that, the device says, “Your next pair has been found!”

Jean sighs, not that he expected anything different after last time.

“Again? Already?”

“Yes, _again_ ,” the device says, and Jean swears he detects impatience in that robotic voice.

He hears the pull of tires against pavement before he sees the black town-car.  Once again he looks back after he closes the door behind. A small part of him will miss the time he spent here, even if he’s not particularly broken up about it.

The swirl of trees rushes by him until he starts to feel carsick, and he shifts in his seat, looking down at his device.   _Booth twelve._  Of course, it’s booth twelve, he thinks. It was booth twelve that first night with Eren at the kitchen-and-bar restaurant, it was booth twelve that night with Marco at the diner.

The car drives and Jean thinks and he doesn’t even recognize that time has passed until the car stops and the back door of the town car opens.

A red flannel over a white tee-shirt and dark-wash jeans isn’t exactly the nicest look, and Jean’s back at the restaurant with its red carpet, and its fancy alcohols and wines, and pasta-seafood dishes that are probably fancy and expensive, but Jean doesn’t particularly love.

He wishes he had known he’d be coming here immediately before he got into the car. He would have asked the driver to let him stop somewhere that he could change because now he just feels underdressed.

Scratch that.

He wouldn’t have.

The drivers, like the security guards posted around the restaurant, are all intimidating in a way that Jean can’t fully comprehend. He doesn’t know what they’re allowed to do to him, but he feels as though they’re constantly watching him like he’s on some kind of short list, and it’s not a good one. He wonders who they report to, what kind of behavior they’re supposed to get involved with.

 _Having a good time,_ his brain supplies helpfully.

He quickly looks away from the security guard standing by an indoor plant near the door of the restaurant when they make eye contact. Jean still feels watched, even as he makes his way into the main dining room.

 _Booth twelve_.

Jean knows exactly where it is, he’s done this before, but rather than make a beeline for his table he pretends to look around. Stalling. Not that stalling will make a difference once he meets his pair and they reveal their timers and Jean is stuck with another stranger for another inordinate amount of time.

Or not inordinate enough.

He supposes it depends.

What Jean does not expect is that at booth twelve, a pair of familiar emerald green or sea green or something (Jean still can’t decide what to call them) eyes watch him with laughter that hasn’t quite reached his lips, one eyebrow slightly raised, hair pulled into a messy knot at the crown of his head. He’s grinning lopsidedly at Jean, and Jean’s chest constricts at the sight of him.

Him.

Eren.

At booth twelve.

“It’s you,” Eren says when Jean’s legs finally bring him close enough for Eren to say something. “Shit, it’s you.”

“It’s me,” Jean says. “And it’s you," he says, forcing animosity into his voice because he thinks he should keep acting as if he detests Eren.

Eren reads right through it, though. Or maybe he’s just trying to get on Jean’s nerves when he says, “We both know you’re ecstatic to see me, baby.”  Maybe it’s both.

Jean rolls his eyes anyway.  “You wish I was ecstatic to see you.”

He sits down, white device firmly in the palm of his hand, and wonders if Eren is as nervous as he is. Probably not.

Eren’s currently leaning back against the booth with a horrible (read: hot as shit) smirk on his face.  Jean kind of wants Eren to slam him against the table and take him right there.

“Shall we get this over with?” Jean asks, holding the device up slightly so Eren gets what he’s referring to.

“Actually,” Eren says, “I’ve been thinking. Let’s not do the whole countdown thing.”

“Okay,” Jean says, brow tightening. “We won’t do the countdown. Why though?”

Eren sighs and takes a sip of the whiskey in front of him that he likely didn’t order for himself.  

“Because,” Eren says, “it’s like this huge _thing_ and I don’t want to deal with that. For the past _year_ , I haven’t had anyone last longer than three weeks— most of them only lasted _days_ — and it all feels like it’s for nothing, like the second it reveals that this is just another temporary thing.

“I know it’s just like, I don’t know, filling my time, you know?”

“Or you’re stuck with one person you barely even know for ages and it’s like you’re in prison, counting down until you’re out,” Jean says, “even if you really like them.”

Eren gestures with his hand, snapping his fingers and pointing at Jean. “Exactly. Exactly.”

Jean exhales and nods, “Alright then. No timer.”

In front of Jean is a glass of water which he wishes wasn’t water.  Maybe if he had something stronger he’d feel better about seeing Eren again like this. Right now his heart beats far too quickly in its spot between his ribs. He wants Eren. There is absolutely no way anyone could make him feel more alive than he does here.  

But Eren’s not The One.

And now Jean doesn’t even know how much time they have together before it’s all over.

The security guards watch them. Jean doesn’t have to turn to look at them; he can see one in his periphery. It makes the hair on the back of his neck stand, and he knows that the other three he passed to get to this table are likely watching them as well.

People don’t do this. They don’t _ignore_ timers. This is likely the first time anyone has tried such a thing. He wonders whether they all have earpieces underneath booth twelve just so they can catch Jean slipping up.

He wonders if Eren feels watched until the other speaks up.  “So,” Eren says, “tell me about how you’ve been the past… two years is it?”

“Yeah,” Jean thinks.

_2 years._

He continues, “It’s been— well, I don’t know— fine, I guess? Marco was—”

“Marco?” Eren asks, “You’ve been with him this whole time?”

Jean nods.

“Holy shit, dude. You really haven’t been with anyone else since…”

Eren doesn’t finish. Jean knows what he means to say.

 _Since that night_.

“I really haven’t,” Jean says.  “Not that it’s any of your business,” he tacks on. An afterthought. Because he doesn’t want Eren to know that Jean’s spent every day for the last two years thinking of his stupid green eyes.

But Eren has a look on his face like maybe their getting paired again isn’t the worst thing in the world.

Jean no longer wants to argue with him.

For a moment, he wants nothing more than to figure out how much time he has with Eren. He wishes he could just reveal the timer on his own, but it doesn’t work that way. He bites his lip as he looks down at the device and dismisses the notification that the timer is available. It’s fine; he doesn’t need to know.

If Eren can get through this without looking at the timer, so can Jean.  When he thinks of it like that, like a challenge or a bet, it’s simple. He won’t be the one to back down first or lose.

“What about you?” Jean asks, if only to keep the conversation moving, to keep from thinking.

Eren frowns.  “Like I said, for the last year it’s been weeks and days at a time. Nothing as short as what we had that first night, but short enough to start to get irritating. It’s impossible to really get to know anyone like that.”  He speaks, obviously straining to keep his voice in check.

Jean thinks if it weren’t for the security guards posted at every corner of the restaurant, Eren would be yelling like a toddler having a tantrum. He wants to tell Eren that he thinks The System is complete and utter bullshit, but this isn’t the time nor place.  He doesn’t get the chance anyway, because their food comes out, the server placing each plate on the table without a word.

Neither of them says thank you, instead frowning at their plates.  

Jean eyes Eren’s plate enviously. 

“Wanna trade?” Eren asks.

Jean glances over his shoulder at the security guards. “Is that allowed?”

Eren shrugs. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Jean nods slightly, and then they slide their respective plates across the table, the action reminiscent of cheating on a history quiz in a high school class, where they could get caught and severely reprimanded.

He’s not sure why that comparison sticks out so starkly to his mind when he can’t even remember high school.

What happens now, he wonders, with all the security guards from The System watching them? Maybe they’ll be snatched up on their way out of the restaurant by some sort of police and taken to jail, or kicked out of the walls, or something equally terrible. Maybe Jean will never get to find The One, after all, if such a person exists.

It’s strange. Two years ago, he wouldn’t have thought twice about trading their meals, had Eren offered.

Eren grins at him, nods, and says with a full mouth, “Much better.”

Jean grimaces. “I really don’t need to see your chewed food, Eren.”

*

The black town car drives off as soon as Jean’s feet hit the pavement, barely giving him enough time to close the back door behind him.  The cabin is small, smaller than the one he and Marco shared for two years, anyway.

Eren doesn’t seem to notice, or at least he doesn’t say anything about it.

“Okay,” Eren says, walking towards the cabin’s front door. “I call the right side of the bed, by the way.”

Jean wonders if that’s just to piss him off, like Eren somehow remembers that Jean slept on the right side of the bed that one night two years ago. Jean remembers, but only because he always sleeps on the right side of the bed— a stipulation that Marco took no issues with— and it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s thought about that single night he shared with Eren two years ago every night since.

Eren steps inside first.

Jean pulls the door closed as he follows inside. The only light inside dimly streams through the windows from the stars and the moon outside. As he feels along the wall for the light switch, Eren turns and then his hands are on Jean’s waist, guiding him backward until he’s against the door, inhaling sharply when he bangs the back of his head against it accidentally.

Before he can think, Eren’s kissing him, leaning fully against him.  Eren’s hands run up his sides, then against his chest, meeting in the center, then trailing back outward. His fingers grasp along either side of Jean’s flannel pulling it back, down his arms, and letting it drop to the floor before he tugs the hem of Jean’s shirt upwards and over his head.  

They have to separate for a moment so Jean can tug the shirt fully off. 

Eren grabs at Jean’s face, hands warm and slightly sticky (from sweat or eating at the restaurant, Jean isn’t sure.) Painted in shadows, Eren’s eyes look darker than they do under the dim chandelier lights of the restaurant-and-bar. Now they’re the color of the forest at twilight.

Their lips surge together again, opposite poles of two magnets. There’s something between them, something that Jean can’t compare with anything else. Granted, he only has Marco really to compare it to, but still— Jean doesn’t think anyone but Eren could do this to him. Turn him breathless. Arouse him with just his fingertips on Jean’s waist.  

Jean fumbles with the buttons of Eren’s blue button-up shirt, desperately needing that to be gone (it’s only fair, after all). Between Jean’s legs, Eren’s thigh presses up against his groin.

Eren rolls his hips upward once, slowly, dragging his thigh against Jean’s hardened cock inside his jeans, making him pulse.  He pulls back slightly, then sucks at Jean’s earlobe, hands tugging at the belt on his jeans.

“I’ve been thinking about this for so long, baby,” he says.

Jean wants to ask _How long?_ , but instead he pushes air out through his nose derisively.

“Don’t pretend you haven’t been thinking about it too,” Eren says, pausing to palm roughly at Jean’s dick through the layers of fabric before he undoes the button of his pants.

Jean stifles himself from moaning at the friction. 

Eren pulls at the zipper of Jean’s jeans, then pulls them down to his mid-thigh. He sinks to his knees and looks up at Jean, eyelashes casting shadows over his cheeks, when he says, “You’re so hard for it, baby,” before mouthing over Jean’s erection from the base to the tip, tongue running over the head of Jean’s cock through the fabric.

Jean worries he might pass out.  He inhales when Eren pulls his mouth away to pull Jean’s underwear down with one hand, the other hand holding Jean’s hip. Then Eren licks a stripe up the bottom of his cock, only touching him with his mouth, one hand still on his hip, the other hand reaching down towards the button of his own pants. 

Jean inhales sharply when Eren’s mouth closes around the head of his cock, and has to close his eyes as the warm, wet feeling of Eren around him sinks further, because if he watches he won’t be able to stop himself from coming too quickly.   

The rough texture of Eren’s throat around his dick hits him before he feels Eren’s nose against his lower abdomen. He hears his own voice moaning, breathless, but doesn’t quite register it until he looks down and sees Eren’s eyes watching him. 

Their eyes meet just barely, just for a second, and Eren hums around Jean, the vibrations going right through his dick to his balls, and rippling over the rest of him from there. The sight of Eren pleasuring himself while he does this only amplifies it all.

Eren pulls back, mouth popping off of Jean. He pulls a hair tie from the back of his head, hair falling around his face. He wipes saliva and pre-cum from his chin and says, “Pull my hair.” 

“What?”  Jean says, not sure he’s heard right, or whether any of this is even real.

Eren, already leaning closer to Jean’s wet, spit-soaked cock once again, glances up and smirks at Jean.

“Just do it, baby.”

Jean runs his fingers through Eren’s hair, balling the length between the fingers of his fists and tugging at it as Eren’s mouth sinks back onto his cock. Eren’s cheeks hollow out, and the pressure of his lips and warm mouth around Jean are enough to have Jean gasping, hands tightening in Eren’s hair.

Jean should probably stop watching Eren take his whole cock into his throat if he wants to have any kind of chance at lasting long enough for Eren to fuck him. He doesn’t realize he’s said that out loud until Eren pulls off him again and says, “Don’t worry about it. We’ve got all the time in the world as far we’re concerned, remember?”

Then he takes Jean in his mouth again, like the interruption never even happened.

Yes, Jean remembers. “It’s all bullshit,” he says, even as he’s trying to restrain himself from fucking deeper into Eren’s throat—  like Eren doesn’t already have almost all of him already.

“The timers, and the pairings, and the— _God_ , fuck, Eren— the whole thing is just such—” Jean realizes that maybe now, on the verge of orgasm, watching Eren’s mouth slide over his cock, is not the best time to go into his reservations about The System.  Jean lets out a moan and says between heavy breaths, “It’s like— like they’re trying— to wear us down.”

Eren hums, and slides forward, completely enveloping Jean’s cock in his mouth and throat.

“ _Jesus Christ_ , Eren, I— I’m—”

Eren blinks up at Jean— somehow finding a way to make himself look innocent even with a cock in his mouth—  pausing only momentarily in his movements. He comes into Eren’s mouth, Eren barely even flinches at it, sucking Jean through it.

After it’s all over, Jean thinks he might collapse onto the floor.

Eren wipes mouth with his own shirt— or maybe it’s Jean’s— and stands up. 

“About that trying to wear us down shit,” he says, “I agree.”

It takes a full minute for Jean’s head to clear and for him to realize what Eren is referring to.  “Yeah,” is all he thinks to say.

*

In the following weeks, somewhere between the arguing, the sex, and the laughing, Jean comes to a highly concerning realization.  Jean likes Eren.

He _likes_ him.

The things Jean feels, he doesn’t think The System could predict or know what to do with. After all, The System had given him Marco— pleasant but not at all inciting of the same level of shit as Eren— for two years and Eren for only a night so long ago.

It’s only a matter of time before he loses Eren again. 

A part of Jean, growing more and more every day, wants Eren to be _The One_.  It’s a ridiculous thought, probably. In fact he knows it’s ridiculous; still, he finds himself wanting it more with every glance between them, every laugh from Eren’s lips, every moan he elicits from Jean in every corner of their rustic decorated cabin.

But Eren is not The One.

Jean needs to know how much time they have left.  It’s becoming unbearable, and it will be his undoing if he doesn’t sate his curiosity soon.  He wonders whether The One is anything like Eren, and wonders simultaneously how he could feel more for anyone than he does for Eren.

“I think,” Eren says, “you’re stressed about something.”

“Hm? What? No.”  

 _Deny. Deny. Deny._  It’s all Jean has left, really, besides admitting to Eren the depth of his feelings— but that _doesn’t matter_ when they don’t belong together, not in the end. Not when The System will tell him he’s better off with someone else. 

Eren doesn’t say anything for a moment, just watches Jean with his jade-emerald-turquoise eyes. Eren might be looking for something, or debating with himself. In the end Jean doesn’t find out because Eren just shrugs, letting out a minuscule _hmm_ before dropping the subject altogether and turning back to the coffee machine, metallic gray and matte black.

The afternoon light shines brightly through the windows, lighting Eren’s skin in yellows and oranges. Jean wants to kiss him all over, everywhere. And they’re together, so he could.  It would mean too much though. It would mean everything Jean hasn’t said out loud, so for that reason, he won’t. 

He could lose Eren— _again_ — tomorrow for all he knows. 

So often, Jean regrets the timers. He wonders what Eren would think if he brought it up now, nearly a month into their pairing, but Jean doesn’t quite think he’s ready to admit to Eren the weight of his feelings. He’s not ready to think about what might happen should that discussion come up because they’re not ultimate pairs; they’re just people here, together in passing until the right person— the right person according to a supposedly omniscient and omnipotent algorithm— shows up.

Eren turns back to him, placing his steaming mug on the island counter before walking around it and standing inches away from Jean, smoothing a piece of Jean’s hair behind his ear with gentle fingers, like Jean is made of porcelain.

“What is it, baby?” Eren asks him.

“It’s—” Jean starts, then pauses, remembering that this isn’t permanent, and no matter what he says to Eren right now, in this moment, he can’t fix that.  

“It’s what?”

“Nothing,” Jean says, “it’s nothing.” 

Eren hums to himself, then says, “I know what will make you feel better.”

Ten minutes later, Jean is gripping the edges of the island counter as Eren works his tongue inside of him, touching Jean’s cock with spit-slicked fingers. He doesn’t stop until Jean comes.

Afterward, Jean tries to reciprocate, but Eren bats his fingertips away from the waistline of his pants.

“That was all for you,” Eren says, even though he’s obviously hard underneath the fabric of his jeans. He kisses Jean, deep and wet, and then says,  “I love making you feel good, baby. You have no idea how crazy you make me when you’re breathless when my name’s on your tongue.”

“In that case,” Jean says, forcing his tone to stay even, “I’m going to shower.”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want you walking around all dirty with your own come. Absolutely filthy.”

Jean rolls his eyes, but otherwise ignores the sarcasm from his pair, and turns towards the bathroom.

“Don’t have too much fun without me!” Eren calls after him.

Jean ignores that.

In the bathroom, Jean locks the door behind him— something he hasn’t done once in the last three weeks with Eren— and lets the shower water run before getting in. He places his white device on the edge of the sink and runs both of his hands through his hair glancing down at the _tap to reveal_ button on the timer.

He knows that Eren meant well. But Eren’s words ring in his mind, echoing constantly, and Jean wonders how he’s ever supposed to be okay with letting him go. _I love making you feel good_ , Eren said. _You have no idea how crazy you make me,_ he said.

But Eren’s wrong. He’s completely off-base.

Whatever Eren is feeling for him, Jean is sure he’s feeling it at least a hundred times worse.

He shouldn’t, he realizes, he really _shouldn’t_.  But he’s not sure that it will even reveal anything unless Eren presses it with him. He sighs and decides that the worst that can happen is it doesn’t show him anything at all.

He inhales,  holds his breath and squeezes his eyes shut as he presses the button on the screen.

The timer shows _7 years_ , and Jean thinks that finally, _finally_ , he can exhale. But the moment he lets his breath go, and his lungs are empty, the device beeps and recalculates, and the time drops. _3 years_.  It makes the noise again, recalculates. _7 months_.  Again.   _5 months_.  Again. _6 weeks._  Again.  

_24:00:00._

The whole time, Jean curses under his breath, hoping Eren didn’t hear the sounds of the recalculations over the running of the shower and feeling his heart drop further into his stomach until he thinks it’s permanently damaged by the acidity.

7 years.  He would have been fine with that. That would have been so much time to find out how much he truly loves— no, he reminds himself _likes_ is the word he’s using for this (because anything else would be pathetic and stupid)— likes Eren.

 _23:59:42,_ the device blinks up at him, counting down, mocking him. 

Jean swallows thickly, but there’s a lump in his throat and it hurts to do so.  At least, he thinks, the shower will mask his tears of frustration. Long enough, he hopes, to compose himself. 

He doesn’t want to leave the bathroom. Not now, not after he showers, not ever, if it were an option.

How can he look Eren in the eye now?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was self-beta'd, so if you notice any issues or have any constructive criticisms please feel free to let me know in a comment below or in a message over on tumblr.
> 
> thank you for all the comments and kudos on the last chapter! one more to go!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think I’m in love with you,” Eren blurts out.
> 
> “Eren,” Jean says, like he’s a kindergarten teacher and Eren is his misbehaving student.

“So there I was—” Eren says, cutting off when he glances at Jean who isn’t even looking at him as he tells the story of his first date with Reiner, a _disaster_ — far more obvious to everyone that night what a disaster it really was when compared to his first date with Levi that was just awkward and painful to sit through— which Eren thinks honestly is a pretty funny story.

But, _something_ obviously distracts his pair _._

In fact, Jean’s been acting weird. For the last few days or so he’s acted distant and moody, but today has been especially strained between them. Jean has barely said two words to Eren or looked him in the eye.  

It’s ridiculous, really, that things should be so weird for no reason. At least none apparent to Eren.

“Jean? Are you even listening to me?”

“Hm? Yeah,” Jean says.

 _Liar_ , Eren thinks, but rather than argue, he drops it. Arguing with Jean would probably be no fun anyway when he’s in a mood like this.  Eren only ever keeps arguing with him because he’s so easy to get worked up and it’s fun to watch. Granted, Jean works Eren up in the process as well. It’s all kind of addicting, in a way Eren thinks his mother wouldn’t like.

His mother— he doesn’t remember her, actually.

Add that to the list of weird things about being here. Everything outside is forgotten, and Eren’s been here long enough to mostly take it as a given by this point. He assumes its part of the algorithm, or something. Once they’re back outside they’ll likely regain their memories. Though no one he’s ever talked to about it has taken him seriously, so maybe he’s just going crazy.

The last thing Eren wants to find out is whether those security guards have the authority to lock him up. So he’s mostly kept quiet about it for the last two years.  He wonders whether Jean would understand, but clearly there’s something upsetting the other man and it’s not the time for such a conversation.

Instead, he does what he should have done days ago, when Jean first starting acting all weird around him.  “Why are you acting so—” Eren pauses, grasping for a word less offensive than _weird_ , “—gross?”

“Gross?” Jean asks.

“Yeah, you’re acting all gross.”

Jean tosses a stone at the lake,  trying to skip it, but it just sinks to the bottom. Eren tries and manages to get a few skips in.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Jean asks.

Eren shrugs. “Self-taught.”

In truth, he can’t remember where he learned to skip rocks. Maybe his mother taught him. Or a sister. He likes to think he had a sister before all this. He has no way of _knowing_ for sure. He knows he can’t figure out the truth on his own, and there’s no way Levi or Reiner Braun were going to help him. And whatever the fuck the others’ names were.

They’ve been sitting in front of this lake together for a half hour at Eren’s suggestion; he was tired of being stuck in the cabin, but now he wonders if he should have just come out alone. He would have felt bad about leaving Jean behind, though.  

Maybe he’s just selfish.

They aren’t each other’s true pairs so Eren’s constant craving for Jean doesn’t make any sense. And he has no real basis to act on it except that it does exist, despite the circumstances.

Eren shoves his hands into his pockets and breathes in deeply. The air smells of coming rain. The top of the green-blue water of the lake ripples as a breeze passes. Pockets of blue sky peek out from behind clouds. Eren’s forearms itch from leaning the bare skin of them against the dry grass, and he briefly registers the sound of rustling leaves and birds chirping.

In any other circumstances this would be nice as fuck.

So why the hell is Jean Kirschtein acting like such an annoying bitch?

Really there’s no other way for Eren to put it. Not only has been acting weird, but he’s just leaving Eren guessing. The obvious answer is that he’s done something wrong, but he doesn’t know _what_ because Jean won’t tell him.

Eren wants to fix things, really, but it’s just frustrating dealing with someone who won’t talk to him.  Jean should know better, should know by now that Eren isn’t just some asshole. He wants to make this work for the time they have together, however long that is.

“What the hell is going on with you?” Eren snaps, finally.

Jean flinches, doesn’t meet his eye.  

Maybe Eren actually is just some asshole. _Fuck_.

“Nothing.”

“Obviously that’s not true,” Eren replies, because he feels bad for cornering Jean, but really he can’t take this shit any longer.

Jean doesn’t say anything. Eren softens a bit at the way Jean looks towards the water. He feels so fucking stupid; Jean Kirschtein is _not_ special.

Except that he is because Eren can’t stop thinking about him— never really could.  

No matter how long he managed to occupy his thoughts before they were reunited, Eren always found his mind trailing back to hard-to-get Jean Kirschtein (who really wasn’t that hard to get in the end. Those ones never are. But Jean _is_ the only one who’s managed to stick himself so solidly in Eren’s mind.)

Eren _likes_ Jean. In the way he never has any of the other pairs in between.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” Eren says, forcing his voice to be gentle, “but you’ve been acting off for awhile and now today you won’t even look at me.”

“No offense,” Jean says, “but you don’t really know me well enough to determine that I’ve been _acting off_ _for awhile._ ”

“Are you just pissed because we’re paired together still?” Eren asks.

Jean’s head turns to him, and he looks taken aback by that guess. “No,” he says.

And Eren believes him, but he also needs to know the truth. “Then why are you so upset today?”

Jean sighs, looks back away.  He closes his eyes as he admits, “I looked.”

“What do you mean?” Eren asks.

“I looked at the timer.”

“You looked at the timer? And you didn’t bother to mention to me that you were going to do that?”  Eren asks.

The betrayal stings. And this is why Jean Kirschtein is not The One.  

“We _agreed_ not to do that,” he says when Jean remains silent.  “And you just decided that you were too good for that so you did it yourself? I should have figured with your stupid hair you probably weren’t a good person.”

“My hair isn’t stupid,” Jean says, “and I _am_ a good person.”

“Are you really?”

Jean’s nostrils flair. “Well, I’m certainly not a worse person than you. Whenever you’re upset you resort to petty insults and childish behavior like this.”  He motions to Eren’s current posture, like it’s proof that he’s right.

“Yeah, well,” Eren says, “at least I don’t break promises like it’s nothing.”

“I only looked because I _like you_ ,” Jean says. “And now we only have until tonight.”

That stings, but Eren says, “Well, I don’t like you,” even though it’s a lie. The fact that it’s a lie doesn’t matter though, because Jean isn’t The One, and they only have a few hours left anyway, so what’s the point?   “It figures we’d only have a few weeks together because _you suck_.”

“It was supposed to be years,” Jean says.

“What?”

Jean rubs at his forehead, like he either has a headache or thinks Eren is a child. “Seven years. It was supposed to be seven years before I looked.”

That both enrages Eren and breaks his heart.  He’s not sure whether he’ll start hitting Jean or crying, so he turns and walks away from the lake, back in the direction they walked to get here.  

“I didn’t know,” he hears Jean call after him. “I didn’t know it would do that.”

Eren keeps walking.

Jean doesn’t follow.

*

Eren’s left with too much time to think, since The System has yet to find him another pair. The cabin he’s assigned to as a single is horrifyingly devoid of any entertainment, so he finds himself sulking for the days that follow the early termination of his and Jean’s relationship.

It could have been seven years, but Jean just _had_ to look, and Eren’s still pissed at him for that.

He wonders where Jean is, what he’s doing, whether he’s been paired up or not. He imagines that the algorithm is lagging because it expected to not need to re-pair them with new people for another _seven goddamn years._

He wishes he could just stop caring about Jean Kirschtein and get over it, but even though he’s angry, the thought of Jean getting paired with someone else brings up more homicidal feelings than Eren is comfortable thinking about. It’s not that Eren would kill another guy who was with Jean… but he’d want to.

Fuck Jean Kirschtein for making Eren like him.

Fuck Jean Kirschtein  for looking at the timer.

Fuck the device for letting him look.

And _fuck_ The Goddamn Motherfucking System.

Fuck all of it.

Eren isn’t sure which of the aforementioned components of this horrid outcome of events he despises the most. He wishes it were Jean, just so he could have a _person_ to be pissed at.  And he is pissed at Jean, but he knows the fault is with The System.  

Yeah, Eren’s mad that Jean looked at the timer. Or at least, he was at first. But he’d have gotten over it within a week or so, had The System actually allowed that to play out.

But it didn’t.

He hopes  that he doesn’t get stuck with another Levi or Reiner or whatever the fuck the rest of their names were (really he stopped learning them after the third one that only lasted a few days.)

Sitting on the twin bed in the cramped bedroom of the single cabin, Eren rubs his hands over his face. Three nights in a row now he’s gone to bed early out of boredom. He can’t take it for another three nights, or even another one.  

As he’s almost come to expect, the device dings on.

“Your ultimate pair has been found! Would you like to confirm the meeting time?”

His heart drops into his stomach. This isn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to have _seven years_ with Jean; he should still be with Jean. The System thinks it’s found The One, but Eren is sure it has to be incorrect.  Unless—

“Who is it?” he asks the device.

The device remains silent for a moment, before lighting up and saying to him, “I’m sorry, I cannot give that information.”

Eren swears under his breath. He didn’t expect that to work, but he doesn’t have another plan.  There’s a chance it’s Jean. However slim the chance, it exists, and Eren just has to take it.

“Confirm meeting,” Eren says to the device.

A loading symbol appears on the device, the infinite loop swirling on the screen as it asks him, “Are you sure?”

A _confirm_ button appears on it.

And this is weird. The device never asked him before whether he was _sure_ , he never got a choice of whether to confirm to meet a pair or not.

Eren bites at his bottom lip until it bleeds, the indecision driving him mad.

This must be a test. It must be. “Is it someone I already know?” Eren asks.

“Negative,” the device tells him.

“Of course it isn’t,” Eren says, defeated, but now he _knows_.

He knows that this is all garbage.  He leaves the bedroom and makes his way to the cramped kitchen (which is more just a few counters and a stove than an actual kitchen) and opens the window above the sink.  He should have realized, he thinks, when he couldn’t remember life before this. When Levi looked at him so weird for asking. When The System took seven years away from he and Jean just because Jean wanted to know and Eren didn’t.

“Well,” he says, “it was nice knowing you.”

He chucks the device out the window towards the treeline. It smashes into a tree before falling into grass that’s too thick for Eren to tell if the device survived the impact.

*

Attempting to track Jean down with no knowledge of where in the walls he could possibly be takes up more of Eren’s time than he expected. He probably should have planned a little better. He’s always been impulsive— or as far as he knows he’s always been impulsive, it just feels like something intrinsic, though he still can’t remember what happened before this, before Jean.

His knees ache, and the soles of his feet hurt, and he wouldn’t be surprised if he looked down and saw the rubber bottoms of his black Converse breaking apart after all the walking he’s done.  

Maybe he shouldn’t have just thrown the device like that; it could have been helpful now. Eren doubts it, but it’s a possibility.

When he does find Jean, it’s the worst place he possibly could. Outside of the kitchen-and-bar, dressed in a goddamn suit. He must be here meeting his new pair. Eren knows in his gut that it’s Jean’s ultimate pair. The way Jean’s dressed and fiddling with the hem of the suit coat tell him as much.

His chest swells at the sight.

Eren probably should feel more self-conscious than he does. His clothes and hair stick against his skin with sweat. He knows he smells terrible, and he must look just as bad, but he hasn’t exactly had the opportunity to stop somewhere to freshen up since leaving his single cabin.

Just moments ago Eren wanted his legs to give out on him just so he could rest, but now he breaks into a run, heading towards Jean before it’s too late, before Jean meets a new pair and forgets Eren. He bursts through the front doors of the kitchen-and-bar after Jean disappears inside. Jean must already be at the table; Eren doesn’t have much time.

The eyes of the security guards are all on him. He sees them turn their heads towards him, behind their sunglasses they’re looking at the sweat-drenched and smelly Eren Jaeger, who really wishes he had remember to bring a hair tie or something on his impromptu journey through the entire land that belongs to The System.

If he’s right, if this is a test, the security guards are in on it. They’re part of it. They must be. Why else would they watch them all the goddamn time.

Even if it’s not a test, Eren has already come to the conclusion that he doesn’t trust The System— but he’s not leaving until he can take Jean with him.

And just like that—

“Eren?”

Jean watches him with an alarmed expression. He obviously was not expecting Eren to show up looking like he just ran a marathon in jeans and Converse. Which in a way he kind of did. Eren wants nothing more than to kiss him, but Jean might actually punch him in the face if he tried at this very moment, so he forces himself to use the small ounce of self-control he has.

“Jean,” Eren says, breathing heavily.

“What are you doing here?” Jean asks, eyes looking around the kitchen-bar.

He’s not at his table yet. Eren would bet anything that it’s _booth twelve._  Booth twelve where Eren can currently see a dark-haired girl sitting, twisting the ends of her hair around her finger while she boredly draws patterns into the table cloth with her index finger.

“Don’t sit down,” Eren says, “I need to— I need you to—”

“Eren, are you… _okay_?”

Jean thinks he’s lost it. Of course Jean thinks that. Eren’s just shown up to the place where he’s expecting to meet his ultimate pair. Eren’s dressed in clothes that stick to him uncomfortably from sweat, and he’s sure his face probably gives away how tired and stressed he is from the whole damn field day he’s had.

“Not really, I—”

“Why are you here?” Jean asks, not letting him finish. “You stormed off on me and wouldn’t even look at me the last time we were together.”

“I know,” Eren says, “I know, but I just need you to listen to me. Please.”

“Okay,” Jean says, crossing his arms. Not a good sign.

Fuck.

_Fuck._

“I think I’m in love with you,” Eren blurts out.

“Eren,” Jean says, like he’s a kindergarten teacher and Eren is his misbehaving student.

“You don’t have to say it back,” Eren says.

“I’m supposed to be meeting The One right now, so—”

“So what? Fuck what The System says. _I_ want to be with _you._ ”

Jean’s eyes shift as the security guards begin to close in on them from the corners of the restaurant. Jean licks his lips carefully, and Eren can tell that he’s calculating his options. Their options. Hopefully.

“Do you want to be with me?” Eren asks.

“ _Eren_.”

“Yes or no?”

Silence envelops them, and Eren thinks the security guards are still _coming_ for them, but they haven’t seem to have gotten any closer either. They aren’t trying to actually stop them from anything. It’s all in their heads, has been the whole time, and they need to _get out of here_ , because it’s all bullshit.

He likes Jean; he _loves_ Jean.

And if some stupid algorithm doesn’t think they should be together— well, Eren will prove it wrong.

If Jean will let him.

He’s looking at Eren like he doesn’t quite believe what’s happening. Like Eren is an apparition, a hologram, untouchable. Eren reaches out and grabs Jean’s hand, tugs it toward his own body.

“Yes or no?” Eren asks again.

Jean sighs. “Yes, but—”

“But what?”

“We can’t.”

Jean’s hyper-aware of the people around them still. Eren knows this because Jean’s eyes keep shifting around uncomfortably, because he looks like if they weren’t in public he might cry. In fact he’s tearing up, his eyes glossing over, the corner of his eyes wet.

Eren drops Jean’s hand, reaches up to touch his face instead. Eren’s palms are sticky with sweat, but Jean doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t really move into Eren either; something still holds him back.

“Jean,” Eren starts, “do you remember anything from before?”

Jean doesn’t ask for clarification, just shakes his head.

“This place, it isn’t real,” Eren tells him. “It can’t be. But you know what is real? I’m in love with you.”

“Where else is there?” Jean asks, nearly whispering.

“There’s the outside,” Eren says.

“We don’t know what’s out there,” Jean says, “What will we do?”

Eren shrugs, smiles softly. “There’s gotta be something out there. We’ll figure it out.”

Jean agrees, finally, nodding his head. He brings his own hand to Eren’s on his face and removes it from his cheek, but he intertwines their fingers.  “Okay,” he says, “let’s go. Outside.”

They leave the restaurant, the security guards almost-but-probably-not following them. Their sunglasses burn into Eren’s retinas, showing up in his peripheral vision even as they enter the park to cut through toward the wall.

Eren sits on his usual bench, dropping Jean hand and stretching his arms atop the back of it.  His head falls backward as he looks up at the sky.

“I thought you wanted to leave,” Jean says.

“I do. We will,” Eren says, “It’s just that I’ve been walking all day trying to find you and not gonna lie my legs feel like jelly, so I was actually kind of hoping to catch some sleep before we have to climb all those rungs.”

Jean snorts, but sits next to Eren who leans his head against Jean’s shoulder and closes his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Eren says.

“For what?” Jean asks.

“For not looking at the timer. For getting mad when you did.”

Jean exhales quickly, his breath tickling Eren’s forehead.

“I meant it,” Eren says, “when I said I’m in love with you.”

Jean might say something in return, but Eren isn’t listening anymore if he does. He’s fallen asleep.

*

A disarray of stars dots the midnight sky. Eren wakes up to a chilly breeze that causes him to shiver slightly. Jean is snoring lightly, neck bent down at a horribly uncomfortable angle. The black metal benches of the park are not meant for sleeping on.

There are small slivers of light in the distance, in his wary state it takes Eren a few minutes to realize what they are.

He presses Jean’s shoulder insistently.

“Jean,” he talk-whispers the other’s name to try to wake him up.

Jean wakes with a start, jumping at the sudden intrusion into his sleep. He looks around, and when he finds Eren’s face, he rubs his eyes sleepily.

“What is it?” he asks.

“We need to _go_ ,” Eren says, “Now.”

“What?”

Eren motions over to the lights. They’re both lucky that Eren woke up when he did, in time to catch them. He’s not sure what will happen if they find Eren and Jean. Instinctively he feels like they’re searching for the two of them, and that they’ll do something horrible when they find Eren and Jean here. He’s not sure whether that feeling is part of the test, or if this is something different.

“Oh, okay, yeah,” Jean says. Then, “Go where?”

“Over the wall,” Eren says.

“Right now? Eren, it’s the middle of the night.”

“Exactly. We’re less likely to get caught— _come on_ ,” he says, standing up and tugging at Jean’s hand.

It takes awhile for them to reach the wall itself. There are service ladders littered around it; Eren knows from passing by them in the town car so many times in the previous years. It takes longer for them to find one than he expected as they wander seemingly aimlessly around the inner perimeter of it.

“Are you ready?” Eren asks Jean, when they find the black, metal rungs that are unmistakably the beginnings of a service ladder.

The endless length they’ll have to climb looms above them, disappearing into a black nothingness. Jean must be thinking the same thing. His neck cranes backward, and he looks up towards where the ladder fades away, but if he has any reservations, he doesn’t say so.

He looks at Eren. He says, “I’m ready.” He says, “I’m in love with you, too.” And before Eren can react he says, “Let’s do this,” and he jumps up to grab onto the bottom rung and begins climbing.

Eren follows.

As they climb, bright lights flip on and shine on them. They’re like performers in the spotlight, or deer in the headlights, or— well they _are_ criminals in searchlights. Probably. Eren wants to call down that they’ll have to climb up here themselves to catch them, but a cold wind whips around his face, stealing his breath and his words, and he nearly slips from the ladder.

A piece of gray stone detaches itself from the wall as they climb past it. It begins to fall, more outwards than down, and then it disappears, breaking into tinier and tinier particles until there’s nothing left.

“What the fuck,” Jean says.

“Keep going,” Eren says, trying to hide how worried he is about that because there’s no going back down now.

They’re so high up that if they fall they’ll probably die.

More pieces of stone break away, following the pattern of the first, breaking into small grains that scatter into the wind, into a black nothingness.  

Eren makes the mistake of looking down and sees that there’s nothing below them. Nothing.

He shuts his eyes tightly and forces himself to catch his breath before he continues climbing. With his palms sweating, he’s worried he’ll slip and fall down. He’s not sure what happens if he falls into nothing.

Finally Jean reaches the top. He scrambles onto the top of the wall, on his hands and knees, and Eren follows quickly behind him.  He stands up and tugs at the hem of his shirt to straighten it as if he hasn’t been wearing it since before walking all over the place to find Jean hours and hours ago.

“We did it!” Eren exclaims, “Jean— _fuck_ — we did it!”

He’s high on the climb, despite how sore his arms and legs are, and all he can think is _We escaped, we escaped, we escaped._ He nearly attacks Jean, throwing his arms around the taller man’s neck and breathing in his scent from his suit. He pulls back slightly, cups Jean’s face in his hands.

“I’m in love with you. _Fuck_ , I’m so in love with you,” he says.

They kiss, their lips pressing against each other’s. Kissing Jean fills Eren’s lungs in ways breathing never could.

Eventually they pull apart and return to reality. They’ve made it up, but now they have to make it back down. Down the other side.

“Eren,” Jean says, voice careful as they realize the weight of where they are.

They are surrounded.  Countless other versions of themselves crowd the top of the wall. Or maybe there was no wall; there’s nothing but black nothingness, and themselves. Jean, Eren. Eren, Jean. Eren-and-Jean. They’re everywhere.

Eren blinks, looks to Jean— _his Jean_ — who chews on his lip and scans the crowd.  Eren takes his hand. Jean doesn’t say anything about that, but does lightly curl his fingers against Eren’s. Eren’s heart beats quicker at Jean’s touch, and whatever the hell is happening is alarming and confusing and Eren thinks he must be dreaming.

Maybe he is dreaming.

But they’re together. Eren-and-Jean.

Countless times they’re together.

How is that even possible?

“What is this place?” Jean asks.

Eren shrugs. Jean might know better than he does, because Eren knows nothing at all.

Bright white lights light up the void where the sky should be.  Countless Jeans and Erens look up towards it. The lights form numbers, counting upwards until it reaches _1000_.  The sky reads like a neon billboard: _1000 simulations complete._

“What does that mean?” Jean asks.

“I don’t know.”

The lights disappear. Reappear, counting up from zero once again.

It slows to a stop, finally reading _987_.  

_987 escapes attempted._

“What the fuck,” Eren finds himself murmuring.

He looks around at the other Eren-and-Jeans.   _987 escapes attempted._ 987 Eren-and-Jeans, and he’s not stupid; they’ve all escaped too. But how can they all have escaped when he and Jean have just beat The System? How are there more of them? They all wear different outfits, so it certainly isn’t the same Eren-and-Jean.

It makes sense in a way that Eren doesn’t understand, and his head already hurts from the harsh contrast of the white lights.

Eren looks at Jean. Jean looks back at him.

*

“I told you I didn’t want to come tonight,” Eren says, swiping past another dismal match on The System ( _12% compatibility_ , fuck you too, Reiner Braun), a dating app that’s supposed to help people find The One.

Mikasa made him an account on it after the last guy he was hooking up with from Tinder turned out to be a fuckboy. Mikasa also accused _Eren_ of being a fuckboy but had said, “At least this way you might find fuckboys more compatible with your fuckboy self, and I won’t have to hear you complaining about guys named Tristan anymore.”

He had proceeded to try to match with Armin and Mika just for shits and giggles and got a terrifyingly high score with Armin— 80%— and a score with Mikasa that might have ended in her murdering him had she not been wine drunk and half-asleep already at the time.

No one— not even some hot older guy with ridiculous abs named Levi the other day— has beaten Armin or Mikasa in this little game. Actually, no one’s even really made it over the 50% threshold, and Eren’s starting to get desperate.

Maybe tonight he’ll just find someone to fuck the old fashioned way: drunkenly hitting on hot people until he hits the jackpot.

Armin stands next to Eren in the basement of The Acoustic House— aptly named for all the basement concerts it holds from starving twenty-something musicians— texting someone on his own phone, and not listening to Eren complain. Which is kind of rude.

“Armin are you listening to me?”

“No,” Armin says, “I stopped when you said ‘ _But_ , _I don’t want to go’_ back at our apartment.”

“I liked you better when you respected me.”

“You mean when I put up with all of your bullshit without calling you out on it?” Armin says.

“You need to stop hanging out with Mika so much. What did you guys do all day anyway?”

“I wasn’t with Mika today,” Armin says.

“Then who were you out with all day? I had the apartment all to myself, it was boring.”

Armin holds up his phone rather than answering to show Eren a text thread with someone named Marco Bodt. Eren snatches the phone out of Armin’s hands and scrolls through part of the text thread.

“What the fuck? A date?” Eren says, “And you didn’t tell me?”

“I _did_ tell you, Eren. I know this might come as a shock to you, but you’re a pretty bad listener.”  Before Eren can defend himself, because _Hey, what the fuck Armin, I’m not a bad listener_ , Armin is calling out Marco’s name and waving him and some other dude over.

Eren’s phone buzzes at his latest match.   _Jean Kirschtein, 98.7%_

That has to be a miscalculation. There’s no way he’s reading that right.

No fucking way is some guy with a name like _Jean_ his 98.7% match. He almost wants to hit the tiny _recalculate_ button that they try to hide by using small font and putting it way in the top corner. Algorithms can miscalculate too, right?

He debates it, decides not to, and puts his phone back in his jeans pocket.

Marco has reached them now with his friend— no, Eren knows that picture now. _Jean Kirschtein 98.7%_ is standing right in front of him.

“Eren, this is Marco and his best friend Jean,” Armin says, introducing them.

“Uh—” Eren hesitates.

He and Jean stare at each other for a moment, almost making Eren miss the glance that Marco and Armin exchange.

“I told you,” Marco says to Armin, “only two assholes could look at one another like that.”

Simultaneously Eren and Jean defend themselves from being referred to as assholes: “You literally just met me, dude.” “The fuck, Marco? What I have ever done to you?”

Armin and Marco both raise their eyebrows, and Eren knows that Armin’s not taking _his side_ here.

“Well, see you guys later,” Armin says to Eren and Jean, “we’re gonna go find Connie and Sasha.”

Left alone, Jean and Eren watch each other warily for a moment.

“So,” Eren starts.

“So,” Jean counters. “Is there a problem? You kind of have this distressed look in your eye… Unless you just look like that all the time?”

“Well—” Eren lets the word end and makes a smacking noise with his lips before saying, “I wasn’t expecting your face to be so—” He cuts off his sentence and gestures with his hand, face twisting into a grimace.

They stare at each other, eyes narrowed.

It’s a useless exercise, Eren thinks, when they both know that The System just gave them a 98.7% compatibility score just moments ago.  And, if only because he hasn’t gotten laid since Mikasa made him start using this stupid app, Eren concedes.

“You wanna get out of here?”  He asks.

“And do what?” Jean asks, eyes wary.

Eren shrugs. “Grab a six pack, go back to my apartment, fuck.”

“I don’t drink beer,” Jean says.

“Of fucking course a guy with a name like _Jean_ thinks he’s too good for beer— so that’s a no?”

“It’s a no to the beer.” Jean sounds nonchalant, but Eren knows he’s got him, and actually it’s kind of hot how he fake-negged Eren so—

“Come with me,” Eren says, grabbing Jean by the wrist and dragging him towards the stairs with him, “I need to find my coat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> outro song: [part of me - good old war](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N6-SvY3sUTQ)
> 
> i had so much fun writing this little fic, and i hope y'all enjoyed reading it! thank you for all the kudos & comments on ch 1 & 2 that gave me the motivation to finish this.
> 
> this is another self-beta'd chapter (@karinne you better not blow off studying for the bar too much to read this) so if you find any mistakes/weird things please let me know here or in a tumblr message or by @'ing me to publicly roast me.


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